Shakspeare's genius justified

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Preface

It was the fatality of the greatest Dramatic Poet the world ever produced to flourish at a period when genius rarely found its merited reward, and when that art, which is the salt of literature, and which was to transmit to futurity his inimitable productions, was but in its infant state.

Regardless of immortalizing his name, he who had penetrated the most hidden stores of Nature; he who had studied man in all his various capacities and failings; he to whom the retrospect of all that had been seemed familiar, and who, as it were, looked into the very soul of time, and read futurity, yet would not see his own greatness beyond mortality, but suffered the hand of ignorance to plant sickly weeds among his everblooming flowers, and which the unabated exertions of genius, for more than a century, have not been able totally to destroy.

Many, indeed, have been the labourers that toiled iii the extensive garden planted by the Immortal Bard; innumerable the weeds they separated from the flowers, and others rooted up ; many the slips from parent stalks they planted, which now flourish, and, blooming in the enamelled fields of Nature, display their beauties to the gladdening sun.

But what individual could have gone over the vast garden and overcome, even in an age, each twining weed that had knitted itself to, and become as a part of yi PREFACE.

the fair stem it grew by ? — Say, ye sons of science, can you point out one ? No : And though ages have been employed to root up those vicious weeds, yet still are they intermixed; nor has the hand of indefatigable industry dared, in many instances, to disturb them, dreading that, in the exertion, blooming carnations must fall with sickening poppies. But whither doth metaphor lead? — Fain would she make me tread her path throughout the limitation of my prefatory walk, and introduce me to the admirers of the Immortal Bard as a son of Nature studied only in the exercise of common sense. But I must be more; Nature and Art must take me by the hand, and, quitting metaphor, display how far their fair instructions have aided me in destroying those noxious weeds which dared to rear their heads 'mongst purest flowers.

In gloomy obscurity, labouring at times under indisposition, the guillotine, as it were, suspended over my head, towards the latter period of eleven years' captivity in France, misery was almost forgotten in studying the writings of the matchless Shakspeare, and in penetrating through obscurity to dissipate the misty vapours which veiled many of his greatest beauties, that thereby his unerring genius might be justified.

However eminently distinguished Shakspeare's Commentators, however highly exalted their rank in the republic of letters, and however true that they merit strong encomium for their indefatigable exertions to purify our Author's text from the innumerable corruptions which, from many causes, had gained footing therein, yet did the star of genius often withdraw its beams, and suffer the cloud of obscurity to veil from their penetration the necessary corrections that would restore our Author's readings,, and afford brilliant illustrations to several hundred passages! — passages which contain

PREFACE. Vll

the most striking beauties inventive genius could produce, or Nature's most fertile valley yield for poetic scenery.

The ingenious Author of the Pursuits of Literature, in his satirical animadversions on Shakspeare's Commentators, says, —

" Enough for me great Shakspeare's words to hear, Though but in common with the vulgar ear; Without one note or horn-hook in my hand," &c.

With this very learned Critic, and whose production I duly appreciate, I must so far concur, that if we had Shakspeare purified from the foul perversions occasioned by careless transcribers, the dross of typographical blunderers, the barbarisms of daring interpolators, and the obscurities raised upon the fabric of sense by the misconceptions of early Editors — then, indeed, should we have Shakspeare's Words, — then, indeed, would the language of Nature be conspicuous, and neither note nor horn-book be required in perusing the fair pages of unexampled genius.

But what must have been the corrupt state of his matchless productions at the present day, had not the active exertions of enlightened understanding, for more than a century, been employed to remove those errors which the hand of corruption had diffused throughout ? The rich gems undoubtedly would still sparkle, but their light could not remove opacity from the incrusted diamonds that surrounded them, and which required the eye of genius to penetrate, and the hand of judgment to clear from the petrifactions in which they were enveloped. To Shakspeare's Commentators, then, we are indebted for the comparatively perfect state in which we have his Works at present ; and notwithstanding they have done much, most of them were aware that much

Vlll PREFACE.

more remained to be done; though, in the confidence of their own judgment, they conceived the task insurmountable, and that genius could neither restore what proved too difficult for themselves, nor add farther light on that which they had in vain attempted to illustrate.

Who, then, will not admit that the Works of our unrivalled Bard become an object of national importance, and that critical investigation is a debt we owe him until his text be perfectly restored ? Who will not indulge the hope that from year to year proofs equal to demonstration may be advanced to expunge corruption and display purity? And who will not welcome that truth, in garb however humble, which, dispelling the mists of obscurity, exhibits the productions of Nature ? For who, so vitiate in taste, will drink from the troubled waters of impurity, when the well-spring of truth invites to its wholesome beverage ?

It is now little more than three months since I published a pamphlet, entitled, " A few Concise Examples of Errors corrected in Shakspeare's Plays:" and perhaps we have not many instances where a mere Specimen had so rapid a sale : in less than a month a second edition was demanded, and which has now also become scarce : but however flattered by these marks of public approbation, nevertheless the intemperate dart of invidious jealousy was aimed at me.* In truth, it passed by; I heard its whizzing sound, but remained perfectly safe; and now would I pass by the party from whence it came, and leave the disappointed votaries of mammon to fatten on their own maliciousness, but that the most active exertions continue to be used, in order to raise a troop of

* See the second edition of ray Examples, &c. where, like a ball that rebounds, the aimed arrow is made to lodge in the bosom from whence it came.

PREFACE. j x

Would-be Critics to attack the citadel, where fair fame would raise a small standard to the honour of him who aspires to be, in part, a Restorer of Shakspeare's Text to its original beauty; and who justifies him, where the severe lash of animadversion has been falsely aimed to wound his unerring genius.

Indeed, it is truly distressing- to find, that even among the higher order of educated genius, the most extravagant jealousies will arise, when that degrading principle, self-interest, is suffered to send its corroding poison to the heart. Beholding with jaundiced eye the full gale that was set to waft my labours into public favour, a paper, called The Literary Gazette, w as employed as the vehicle to run down, not only the Examples I had published of my Restorations and Elucidations of Shakspear-e, but also to condemn my unpublished Work, (this now offered to fair and honourable criticism :) yea, to condemn it even to the flames, that party prejudice, like the tyrant of Rome, might rejoice during the conflagration ! But with the Gazette and its Editor I have no farther concern: they did their worst, — the reprobation of impartial judgment attended their temerity; and I believe the Proprietor will not again afford cause for the index of contempt to be pointed at him.

That the law of reprisal was necessary to be enforced on the occasion, a generous public not only admitted, but perceived its effects with glowing satisfaction; and here I should have been cautious in farther recrimination, but that the asperity of disappointed profit (not fame) still circulates its venom, and, under the garb of criticism, argues on one particular point, — that my Restorations are founded merely on conjecture!

Now this remark, however invidiously designed, seems better adapted to the labours of all my predecessors; for x PREFACE.

I trust to prove that the principles which have guided me, and the clue which I have obtained, bring my Restorations, in the eye of candour, even to demonstration.

Shakspeare being, as all our Commentators agree, ignorant of both the Greek and Latin languages, of what value can either prove in restoring or illustrating his text? Upon what principle must a Restorer or Commentator act? Can he call magic to his aid? or a Hecate to conjure the shade of Shakspeare to answer questions? Has the erudition of Dr. Johnson or the researches of Mr. Steevens enabled either to suggest any restorations in Shakspeare but merely on conjecture ? As for preferring the text of one copy to that of another, such cannot be called restoration ; neither can those impurities in grammar occasioned by ignorant transcribers and compositors be considered restoration ; for justice to the Author's unerring genius demanded that which even lay within the abilities of a village schoolmaster. But if any Commentator, studious to restore, on principles of reason, the Author that he would illustrate on those of truth, ever had an auxiliary at command, surely I may safely say that I had one which proved most serviceable : — I mean my practical knowledge of the typographic art ; for what penetration displayed, this confirmed, in pointing out how the errors originated. Recourse to books I had none ; and convinced I am that deep researches often destroyed, in my predecessors, what the first impulse of reason dictated ; for, whilst fancy, in the confluence of parallelisms, compelled them to seek anchorage in false soundings, they accepted any aid rather than be wrecked in the stream to which laboured investigation had carried them.

The causes which introduce errors into a work while in the hands of a Printer are so numerous, that to re-

PREFACE.

XI count and explain them would make my preface a volume. Indeed, throughout this work, I have been as explicit as possible in displaying how the many errors arose; but that the reader may form a just conception of the means by which one letter has been falsely introduced for another, and which, helping to form a word, enabled it to maintain the place it usurped, I here prefix, on a reduced scale, the plan of a pair of letter-cases, by referring to which, it will be found how close the connection is between certain types, and which, when in their respective boxes, the least shaking of the frame whereon the cases rest must dislodge from their own compartments, and scatter them into those of their neighbouring types.

UPPER

CASE.

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

A

B c

D

T

•

H

I

K

-

M

N a i

K

L

M

N

P

*

R s

T

V vv

P j,

.

S

•

V

.

X

Y z

M

CE

J u

X

Y z

M

CE

J u a e i

*

I

— ft fk a e i

U

1!

t a

V o li it k a e i u

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LOWER

CASE.

cl as

CE

J e s eh

; j fl | fl b c d f f t>

(h

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ffi ffi ffl

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Spaces.

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Quadrat*

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1 ' 1

.

Xll

PREFACE.

In the upper-case, it will be perceived that the letters are alphabetically arranged; but the lower-ease is so divided, that the letters most frequently demanded, particularly the vowels, are nearest to the compositor's hand, and have larger compartments than most of the consonants.

Though the Art of Printing had made great advances towards perfection in Holland, France, Germany, and Venice, yet, in England, when Shakspeare flourished, it was merely in a state of infancy; the very workmen were comparatively but apprentices, and so ignorant in the minutiae, now familiar to youths not more than three or four years at the business, that every work then produced displayed innumerable typographical blunders. Can we then be surprised that the Works of Shakspeare shared the same fate — even a worse fate than the generality ? for it is well authenticated that transcripts were, in general, made from the piecemeals of the performers, and those still more hurried, by the transcriber writing that which was read to him by another person, and the copy thus produced was, without revisal, sent to the printer. That our Author became, by such active exertions for precedency of publication, doubly exposed to blunders, exclusive of those ever attendant on hurried works in a printing-office, we need not be surprised; for if the person who read had a bad articulation, and the transcriber an unchaste ear, words most familiar to the comprehension of the latter would unquestionably be inserted ; and that this has been the case, my predecessors have so strongly proved, that I shall not trouble the reader by entering farther into a detail that must be the echo of opinions already universally received.

The point then which I contend is this, — that if ever any principle could be advanced, tending to bring order out of confusion by the substituting of words, correspond-

PREFACE. xiii

ing* in sound and characters with the corrupt words which have crept into Shakspeare's text, and which, by context, afford a clear and comprehensive meaning-, and also support both figure and metaphor where their aid is demanded, — I sav, such principles have guided me through the entire of my work: thus, by the intuitive power of reason, every mode by which corruption could creep in has become familiar, and in analyzing that which I was determined to make pure, 1 never suffered the furnace of penetration to cool until all that was base was separated from the choicer metal. Having then reduced those principles to a regular system, I entertain the hope, that ultimately I shall succeed in removing every corruption from our Author's text, and that I shall be enabled to say, what Mr. Malone too hastily advanced, " The text of the Author seems now to be finally settled."

It is expected by many, that I shall enter into a farther exposure of that imbecility which made an effort to attack the Specimen of my Work, as first offered to public notice; but imbecile should I consider myself, were I to devote another part of a page against those, who, forcing wind enough to blast peas from a pop-gun, suffered fancy to indulge the idea that they aimed Waterloo Artillery against me! No; I leave the party to those attendants that ever lackey the heels of disappointed pride, and, exulting in this confidence — that even the collective party cannot do the one-tenth part towards restoring and illustrating the text of our Immortal Bard, as this Volume exhibits, I shall limit myself to a few observations, and those only which the nature of my Work requires.

I have, in a former part of my preface, slightly hinted that I commenced this undertaking while labouring under the daily accumulating miseries of a prisoner of war in France ; and as, in this state of slavery, I had no

XIV

PREFACE.

opportunity of resorting to any of the old editions of Shakspeare's Plays, I made the labours of my predecessors subservient in obtaining the different readings from the folios and quartos of such corrupt passages, as necessarily claimed my attention in penetrating into the origin and causes of those numerous corruptions. The labour of collating, then, like Mr. M. Mason, I experienced not; but make no doubt the aid I derived was equal, so far, to my wishes, as in such short extracts inaccuracies could not be expected. However, convinced that several corruptions still remain, I trust that, ere long, I shall have an opportunity of comparing the different readings, and if corruptions have escaped my predecessors' notice, that I shall be enabled to restore the text to its pristine purity, and make it shed that lustre which the genius of the Bard originally designed.

When I first submitted a specimen of my labours to critical penetration, the title of my pamphlet announced that I proposed to correct Seven Hundred Errors in Shakspeare's Plays. Honoured by the notice of several literary characters who highly approved my Specimen, one gentleman particularly suggested that the more appropriate title would be — Restorations of Seven Hundred Passages : to this I immediately acquiesced; but in the progress of reading my manuscript for press, I found some passages that required farther investigation, and an absolute necessity of resorting to the early editions, for which reason I have omitted nearly sixty in this Work, though hoping, at a future period, to offer them with the same confidence that I do the present restorations. But, however, it will be found, that though I am short of seven hundred passages, yet there are more than seven hundred errors corrected; as also about one hundred and sixty illustrations given of passages which, though correct, have been misinterpreted by my predecessors, although these misinterpretations have

PREFACE. XV

long since passed the ordeal of criticism as incontrovertibly just.

It is almost unnecessary to observe, that where the text was corrupt, it could not afford the Author's meaning; but these passages now restored afford quite different illustrations to those hitherto given ; so that, in restorations and illustrations, the Work now most respectfully submitted to public inspection, contains eight hundred and sixty proofs against the accuracy of all Shakspeare's former Commentators,

Though the most modern writer on Shakspeare, and I would indulge the hope, not inferior to any of my predecessors as a restorer of his text, yet, as a Printer, I can say what, perhaps, no person of that profession ever had or ever will have to say, — At one period, three different editions of Shakspeare's Works were printing in my Office: A part of Mr. Malone's for the Company of Booksellers; — the plays of Lear and Cymbeline, each making a volume, with illustrations by Isaac Ambrose Eccles, Esq.; and a reprint of that edition, commonly known as Stockdale's Shakspeare. If, then, in the course of reading the proofs of these respective editions, that I became early acquainted with our inimitable Bard, it will appear less extraordinary, that at a more advanced period I should become one of his Commentators.

To me it would have been a high gratification had any of those eminent characters who have edited Shakspeare been still living ; for, convinced I am, that they would have been my strenuous friends in giving sanction to, and in recommending this Work to public notice.

I shall not trespass farther in prefatory remarks, than merely to mention, that having recently perused an xv i PREFACE.

article in the Edinburgh Review, relative to the species of comments on Shakspeare which the Editor of that Work would recommend, I submit to the reader how far I meet the opinion of this judicious Critic: — he observes,—

" The real admirers of Shakspeare, we believe, care very little about his commentators. Yet, if we wish to understand every word of an author who wrote more than two hundred years ago, we must accept of the services of the antiquary and verbal critic. A short glossary, a few explanations of old usages, and a few suggestions for the restoration of a corrupted text, would be gratefully accepted, and generally consulted. But these helps become hinderances, — and nuisances indeed of the first magnitude, when they swell to six times the bulk of the original author, and engage us, at every tenth line, in the paltry polemics of purblind annotators, and grovelling transcribers of black-letter. The great popularity of Shakspeare has held out such temptations to this industrious class of beings, that we have now an edition of his thirty-five plays distended into twenty-one thick octavos; in which the text bears such a slender proportion to the commentary, that he who wishes to read nothing but Shakspeare, must keep his forefinger constantly employed in turning over the leaves, — and frequently earn no more by the labour than a single line in a page. When we look into the mass which fills the remainder of it, we find it made up of long quotations from contemporary authors, tedious dissertations on old customs, and keen and solemn controversies upon the comparative merit of rival readings or projects of punctuation.

See Edinburgh Review for July, 1808, p. 449.

From this, I trust, it will readily appear that the plan which I have pursued, precisely accords with the principles suggested by the learned Editor ; and should my labours be sanctioned by the Literary World, more than three thousand notes, occupying about six Volumes of what is now considered the best edition of Shakspeare, will thereby become totally unncessary.

SHAKSPEARE'S GENIUS JUSTIFIED.

RESTORATIONS and ILLUSTRATIONS

OF

SEVEN HUNDRED PASSAGES

SHAKSPEARE'S PLAYS

Wi)t Wtmptgb

ACT I. Scene I. — page 6

Boatswain. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!

Ariel has so disposed the wind, that the ship is in danger of being driven against the Island; and which, as Adrian observes in Act II. sc. i. is "almost inaccessible." This being perceptible to the Boatswain, he is supposed to address himself to Boreas ; and, seamanlike, defies his power, provided the vessel has sufficient sea-room.

In Pericles, Prince of Tyre, the sailors express themselves in a similar manner :

1 Sailor. " Blow, and split thyself."

2 Sailor. " But sea-room, an the brine and cloudy billow kiss

the moon: I care not."'

E

THE TEMPEST.

Alonso. Good Boatswain, have care. Where's the Master? ptay the men.

Although the authorities introduced by various Commentators in support of the word play, seem plausibly strong ; yet, in my opinion, the transcriber mistook the sound of the word. We certainly should read, u ply the men :" meaning-, that he should make the men work with

Prospero. Who having unto truth, hy telling of it.

Mr. M. Mason recommends, "by telling oft;" which elision is to limit the verse to its due measure. But, I am of opinion that we should read, "by telling oft:" meaning, that by frequently telling a falshood, he believed it to be a truth. Thus the verse is perfect.

Prospero. — the very rats

Instinctively had quit it.

It is said of rats, that they generally quit a tottering house a few days before it falls.

Prospero. Row I arise:

Sit still and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Sir William Blackstone demands, "Why does Prospero arise?" He then proposes to give the words — " Now I arise" to Miranda. But, why should Miranda

THE TEMPEST.

arise ; she who has manifested so lively an interest in the narration of her father ? However, it is evident, from the sequent verse, that she attempts to move from her seat, but is prevented by Prospero ; the reason of which will be obvious, by reading- as the Author wrote :

3S ow ire. rise !

Sit still and hear the last of oar sea-sorrow.

Prospero, in the course of his narration, smothers all indignation against his brother ; but now the retrospect of his treachery figures to his imagination all the dangers and all the calamities he has endured ; and which raising the passion of vengeance in his bosom, he exclaims — Now ire, rise ! which words, from his enraged look, attitude, and action, awaking sensations of fear in the breast of Miranda, she attempts to move from her seat; but judging the true cause of her emotion, Prospero curbs his indignant fury, and modulating his voice, tells her to "Sit still, and hear" him recount "the last of their sea-sorrows," and the care he had taken of her education.

The transcriber made the blunder: I arise, and, ire, rise! have, perhaps, as close a similarity of sound as any two words formed of different characters.

Prospero. Come forth thou tortoise! When?

Prospero calls Caliban, who is a rude monster, from his cell : he is a mass of flesh, destitute of reason ; and who, like the tortoise, merely eats, drinks, and crawls about, in sluggish inactivity. In short, Prospero considers him as a piece of unmeaning matter — a mere excrescence. To prepare us, therefore, for the object he is about to introduce, Prospero marks his contempt of him, by the most contemptible appellation that can be given to any object partaking of human form.

B2

Come forth thou tortoise wen !

i.e. Thou animated excrescence! Prospero considers him no nearer to human nature than is that protuberance called a wen.

In the Second Part of King Henry IV. Act I. sc. ii. y/e have a passage that puts this restoration beyond controversy. Prince Henry, in speaking of the familiarity with which he indulges Falstaff, says —

" I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my dog," &c.

which Dr. Johnson thus elucidates: — "This swoln excrescence of a man."

Caliban. I'll get thee

Young sesi-mells from the rock.

The researches of my predecessors have been great to establish the existence of sea-mells, or sea-malls; but I profess myself unacquainted with either ; and, I believe our great Poet was equally so : for, though many words are now obsolete which took a lead in literature two centuries ago ; yet substantives have no more varied than proper-names. Therefore, if sea-mells were known in Shakspeare's time, they must be equally so at present. But they are unknown; nor have our Commentators been able to ascertain that any naturalist, from the time of Pliny to Buffon, ever mentioned such a bird. From these considerations, I am confident the original read :

I'll get thee

Young sea-mews from the rock.

The sea-mews make their nests in rocks close to the sea. The manner in which the error took place is obvious. The transcriber formed the w in mews larger than the other letters connected with the word; and which was taken by the compositor for 11.

Act III

Ferd. My sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work; and says, such baseness

Had ne'er like executor. I forget:

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, &c„

It is difficult to say, whether the blunders in this passage should be attributed to the transcriber's unchaste ear, or to the compositor's not deciphering the letters of the true words: we must be satisfied in obtaining the original, which certainly read :

My sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work; and says, such baseness

Had ne'er like executor. I forgiv't:

For these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, &c.

Meaning: — The tears which Miranda sheds, at seeing me striving to fulfil the laborious task enjoined on me by Prospero, give such consolation to my soul, that I forgive the iron-heart which imposes it.

The subsequent word — But, should read — For: the necessity of this latter correction was obvious to Mr. Malone, even in the present corrupt state of the passage.

Scene I. — page9£.

Most busy-fcss, when I do it.

The two first folios read — Most busy-lest; altered by Mr. Theobald to busy -less ; who observes, on this correctio?i — "I cannot afford to think well of my own sagacity, as even with this alteration, the passage is corrupt."

Formerly the long / and round s were used indiscriminately, by some printers, in the middle of words; though a cautious printer made the distinction, by placing the long at the beginning, and the round s in the middle of words; as in fubscription ; unless a £, or an i followed the s y as in fubflanee and fubfijl. Thus, then, the error originated : — The compartments for the long f and f being next each other, these letters were frequently mixed; and as it required a sharp eye to distinguish them, the compositor took up an /instead of an/J and produced the corrupt reading, as in the two first folios. — We should read :

I forgiv't :

For these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours; Most busy left, when I do it.

Thus corrected, the meaning is clearly and comprehensively familiar. When Ferdinand had accomplished the daily labour enjoined on him by Prospero, he was more busy left than while at work ; i. c. the severe task occupied his mind, and banished disagreeable reflections ; but labour over, and oppressed with fatigue; then his mind became busily employed^ in reflecting on the tears shed for him by his mistress ; the cutting thoughts of his servile state ; the irreparable loss of his father ; and, the desponding idea of never returning to his dominions.

Act IV

Phospero. If I have too austerely punish'd you,

Your compensation makes amends; for I

Have given you here a thread of mine own life, &c„

The old copy reads third. According to the passage quoted by Mr. Hawkins, from the Comedy of Mucedorus:

thread, was formerly spelt third; but in Markham's English Husbandman, the same word is spelt thrift;

and in this manner, I believe Shakspeare gave it in this passage. A slight transposition, however, seems to have been made by the compositor, who, from a cursory glance at his copy, made third; which, being understood by the corrector, in reading the proof, to mean a third part of Prospero's existence, he changed the definite for the indefinite article : and thus perverted the Author's meaning, by leaving Prospero tico-thirds of his life in reserve. We should read :